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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25318105">three sheets to the wind: a crack ship drabble collection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eelegy/pseuds/eelegy'>eelegy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dreamcatcher (Korea Band), LOONA (Korea Band), f(x), fromis_9 (Band), 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>2kyung mentioned, F/F, Gyuri cameo ch3, Hinapia Mentioned, Irene makes a tiny appearance in ch 2, Should I post in chapters or in a series?, but nothing to tag about, one line Eunseo cameo ch3 too</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:02:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25318105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eelegy/pseuds/eelegy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles for pairs not even in the same group. Who would be crazy enough to write Haseul/Minkyeung? Me. Saerom/Krystal? Me. I'm literally going to go insane just coming up with these.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hwang Miyoung | Tiffany/Kim Minji | JiU, Jo Haseul/Kim Minkyeung | Roa, Kim Bora | SuA/Roh Jisun, Lee Saerom/Jung Soojung | Krystal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. haseul/minkyeung</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Haseul starts the conversation carefully. “What do you think about Kim Minkyeung?” She takes a sip of her soda to keep herself from adding anything else.</p><p>Sooyoung looks up from her calc notes. “The gorgeous business major in our year? The giantess?” She puts her pen down. “Hot. Maybe not worth <em>all</em> the hype, but very pretty. Why? Got another crush?”</p><p>Haseul chokes on her soda, face reddening. “I don’t get crushes on <em>everyone</em> I talk to.”</p><p>“No, only the girls way out of your league,” Jinsoul says offhandedly, popping a piece of her granola bar into her mouth.</p><p>Sooyoung promptly slaps her on the leg and shoots her a look. “You can’t just say that someone is out of Haseul’s league! Haseul is a smart, pretty senior! Who wouldn’t want to-”</p><p>“-date a person with her head buried in a different supernatural romance every day? Who owns primarily wolf t-shirts? Who somehow subsists on MacDonald’s Pick Two combos?” Jinsoul looks up at Haseul apologetically as Haseul surreptitiously slides <em>Kiss of heat: Feline Breeds Book Three</em> into her bag. “Sorry, Haseul. You’re super cute and eligible. Just. Maybe not...<em>Her. </em>And to be fair, I don’t think anyone at this school is in league with her!”</p><p>The “Her” in question is Kim Minkyeung, who was famous on campus for being equal parts ridiculously kind and gorgeous. She had started freshman year off with a bang, as half of the adorable campus couple known as 2kyung, and had, halfway through her second semester, parted amicably with Kang Kyungwon. So amicably, in fact, that they became roommates the next year and had a show on the University’s radio station called “I Swordfight My Ex” where they talked relationships and played nostalgic 2000s jams. Any girl who liked girls at their university had a crush on her at some point. Thing is, Haseul’s three-year “admiration” had graduated into something a little more intense than a crush.</p><p>Sooyoung shields her eyes from the sun as it begins to peek out from behind a cloud. “I think I could date her.”</p><p>Jinsoul guffaws. “You? You’d look like the Keebler elf next to her!”</p><p>Sooyoung shoots her a glare. “Oh yeah? And I’m a centimeter taller than you. What does that make you?”</p><p>“I got over my crush last year. I have a girl now.” Jinsoul looks over Haseul’s shoulder at someone coming towards them from across the quad. “Speaking of,” She thrusts her hand out dramatically, clutching the other over her heart. “My queen!”</p><p>Jungeun shoves Jinsoul over and rolls her eyes, doing a terrible job at hiding her smile. “Hey, Soo, Seul.” She leans in to give Jinsoul a peck. “Babe. What are you all talking about?”</p><p>Jinsoul throws an arm over Jungeun’s shoulders and offers her part of her crumbly granola bar. “Haseul here is heart-eyes over Miss Minky, and I’m trying to gently break it to her that you need to be at least 168cm to even look directly at her.”</p><p>“Babe, don’t be mean. Even you’re not that tall.” Jungeun picks a crumb off Jinsoul’s sweater and eats it. Sooyoung and Haseul share a look of disgust. Couples are gross.</p><p>“Why do you think I avert my eyes?! It’s not mean to speak the truth!” Jinsoul throws up her hands.</p><p>Haseul takes another sip of her soda, setting it down carefully before speaking. “Actually, The reason I asked you about her is that-”</p><p>She’s interrupted by a bee landing on Jinsoul’s leg. Jinsoul flinches, pushing her bookbag strap into knocking Haseul’s drink onto Sooyoung’s notes.</p><p>“Fuck, Jinsoul!” Sooyoung snatches her notes away and Haseul is quick to right her soda. “I have a test in twenty minutes!”</p><p>Jinsoul grins sheepishly. “Sorry, Soo.”</p><p>Haseul downs the rest of her drink to prevent any more accidents. “So the reason-”</p><p>“Hey Haseul, do you have a spare piece of paper?” Sooyoung is distractedly digging around her bag for another notebook.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Haseul digs the school store advert out of her bag and passes it to Sooyoung, who leans over and begins scribbling her formulas on it. “Thanks.”</p><p>“Minkyeung asked me on a date.” Haseul spits it out all at once, not wanting another interruption.</p><p>Jinsoul and Jungeun immediately stop their canoodling and Sooyoung’s head snaps up from her notes. There’s a few seconds of pause before Jinsoul and Sooyoung both start speaking.</p><p>“The GODDESS?!? Holy fuck. I was so wrong. I don’t know how you did it, but fuck, you sure did-”</p><p>“You need to go. Tell us if she’s really as dreamy as they say she is, and how tall she looks up close-”</p><p>Haseul fidgets with her hands until Jungeun interrupts both of them with a, “Did you say yes?”</p><p>Haseul fails to fight back a grin. “Yeah.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>follow me on <a href="https://twitter.com/folklorbit">twitter</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. saerom/krystal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Saerom stumbles over a loose belt laying on the floor as she hurried to follow the assistant speeding through the dressing room. It’s crunch time, and she likely only has about 5 minutes to talk to the designer behind the most talked-about new label of the year: By Krystal. Saerom couldn’t believe she wasn’t even a year out of uni and she was already interviewing superstars in the industry, but she wouldn’t let this chance go to waste. She w-</p><p>Suddenly, she feels air beneath her foot where there should be ground, and just as fast, she’s falling. “Oh, fu-” </p><p>A hand shoots out and grabs her, steadying her, but as she looks back to thank the person, they disappear between two models wearing the baggiest hoodies Saerom has ever seen.</p><p>The assistant is tapping her foot and beckoning impatiently when Saerom regains her bearings, and they’re off again, speeding down a hallway and twisting into another, and then a convoluted series of doors that Saerom hopes she won’t have to navigate herself to leave.</p><p>“We’re here.’” </p><p>Saerom nods in acknowledgment, already running through her list of questions. The assistant knocks three times and there’s a muffled, feminine “come in!” from the inside.</p><p>The assistant pushes the door open to reveal a lanky woman at a sewing machine, a pin caught between her lips and more in a pin cushion on her wrist. working on a skirt on her lap. She’s unavoidably gorgeous. The first thing Saerom thinks is “Models really are different than humans.”</p><p>Krystal laughs, open and *loud* and so, so unlike the ice princess reputation she had in the industry. The pin falls to the floor and disappears under a pile of tulle. Saerom allows herself to bask in the woman’s joy before realizing she’s said that thought out loud.</p><p>She flushes and stammers and apology, only to be interrupted by Krystal, who is smiling, no, *grinning* at her.</p><p>“Oh no, I appreciate it. It tells me you’re not just another reporter with cookie-cutter questions. I hate those.”</p><p>Saerom winces and mentally shreds the list of “So why did you want to be a designer?” questions she has prepared. “Actually,” she replies, sheepish,  “I had a list of those prepared.”</p><p>Krystal smiles more gently.  “At least you’re honest about that.” She looks down at the skirt on her lap and back up to Saerom.  “I hope you don’t mind that I’m making some last-minute alterations. One of my models got into a bit of an accident on the way here and it looks as though no one wants to spare one of theirs. I’m going to have to go on instead.” She hums as she takes a pin from her cushion and slides it into the waistband before standing and looking at her assistant. “Joohyun, would you mind trying to find me some pink thread?”</p><p>The assistant, Joohyun, nods and speeds off.</p><p>Krystal sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “I love Joohyun, but she worries a lot. Errands help her with that. I usually have her iron all the slacks since she enjoys that, but it’s a summer collection, and I only have two outfits with pants this time around.” She turns and looks in the mirror behind her, holding the skirt up to her body, tilting her head as she examines her reflection. She turns back around to Saerom and, noticing she’s standing, she scrabbles to move the sewing machine out of the way and offers the chair to her. “Please sit. I have to fit myself in this, so I won’t be needing that for a while.” </p><p>Saerom nods and puts down her notebook and pencil. “Do you mind if I record this interview? Just voice memos, no photos or video.” </p><p>Krystal takes the pin out and squints at it as if she’s scolding it. “Hm? Reco-Oh! Yes, I don’t mind.”</p><p>Saerom presses record and sets her phone on the desk, swiveling around to face Krystal, who she realizes with a shock is shucking off her pants. “Uh-” </p><p>Krystal turns to look at her, and then down at herself, now only wearing a tied-off blouse and a pair of deep red panties. “Oh, right. In the industry, everyone’s numb to naked bodies. As a model, you’re undressed around dozens of people, and sometimes I forget not everyone’s used to that. You’re a rookie, right?” </p><p>Saerom nods.</p><p>Krystal smiles, “You’ll get used to it.” She turns back around and slips her legs into the skirt. “So, questions. Shoot.”</p><p>“So you’ve told other people that the transition from model to designer is about transformation, but you’re still using your modeling name. Why?”</p><p>Krystal tugs the waistband tight and hums as she considers the question. “I suppose it’s a business move. I’m known, have a reputation as Krystal. Why change things and have to start over? Why reinvent the wheel?”</p><p>Saerom nods, fingers itching to help as Krystal pulls a pin out of the wrist cushion with her teeth as her other hand hold the waistband. “Is that a principal you take with you into your clothing? ‘Why reinvent the wheel?’”</p><p>Krystal meets her eyes through the mirror and furrows her eyebrows. “I’ve never thought of it like that, but I suppose so. I don’t experiment too much with fabric or wild fits. If it works and it’s comfortable, I’m satisfied. It’s making the basics as lovely to wear as possible, I think.” She jabs herself with a pin as she tries to replace her fingers with it and winces.</p><p>Saerom stands and puts her hands out, not sure how to offer. She had made clothes in college, a lot, in fact, but this was different. This was for real, and she wasn’t sure asking a fashion designer at Paris Fashion week would be considered overstepping. “Is there, uh, some way I can help?”</p><p>Krystal smiles at her and holds out the wrist with the cushion on it. “You mind helping me secure this?”</p><p>Saerom takes two pins and goes to work, careful to avoid Krystal’s fingers. </p><p>“You’re handy with your pins,” Krystal comments as she works.</p><p>“I used to make clothes in college, but it’s been a while, and this is, obviously, but more, you know…” She stands up when she’s finished.</p><p>“It seems big, but it’s just cliquey. It’s just meaner people making the same clothes they did in their dorm rooms, but with expensive materials and embarrassing price tags.” Krystal frowns. “Don’t use that in your interview. They don’t like me as it is.”</p><p>“Why?” Saerom furrows her brow, considering, “Am I allowed to ask that question?”</p><p>Krystal laughs, softer this time. “You can ask anything. It’s a matter of whether I’m allowed to answer it. I haven’t decided if it’s stupid of me to tell you yet, but here’s your answer: the fashion industry is made of connections and money. You either have powerful friends or rich investors or both. I have a lot of friends in the industry, as well as my sister, but I came into fashion as a model. A lot of people think I shouldn’t be trying to design. You know, that I reached my full potential as a model and shouldn’t hope for more, that it’s beyond me. I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining, but it sucks. Come to my show after this, but don’t look at the collection. Look at the audience. You’ll see the big names in fashion. Look at their faces. They don’t take me seriously.” Krystal sighs and spins, letting the skirt flow around her. It’s a beautiful gradient of baby pink to a deep, midnight blue. “I think none of them are lending me a model because they want me up there. They want the world to still see me as a model.”</p><p>“Is it considered a shameful thing? To be a model?”</p><p>Krystal grabs a pencil off the desk and marks a couple of lines on the waistband before answering. “I think,” She pauses. “I think it is, to some people. We’re just bodies to a lot of designers. Moving mannequins. The fact that I’m trying to be a designer means we can be more than that, and that scares a lot of the powers that be.”</p><p>“Are models viewed as, sorry in advance, viewed as airheads in the industry like they are outside of the industry?” </p><p>Saerom winces at her clunky wording, but Krystal laughs. “Yeah, I think so. We’re there to look pretty and not say a word. The fact I’m talking about this? They’re not gonna be happy.”</p><p>“Is this going to be bad for your business? If I release this interview?”</p><p>Krystal unpins the skirt and steps out of it. Saerom can’t pull her eyes away. She was so shocked the first time that she didn’t even register how long Krystals legs are, and how they lead up to the lace of the-Jesus. Saerom averts her eyes to see Krystal looking right at her, an unreadable expression on her face. Fuck. Then it clears like it was never there and Krystal is back to her amicable self. “Yeah, it’s going to hurt me, but I’m already not on great terms with some of the big designers here. I worked with a lot of them as a model and pulled out of some shows to start my company. I paid the fines associated with that, so there are no legal issues there, but I stepped on a lot of toes to get here. I’m more worried about my sister. Obviously, people associate us, so when I pulled out of those contracts, it reflected badly on her. It could impact her on the supplier side in the future. I don’t want that to happen again.”</p><p>“What does your sister think about this?”</p><p>“Oh, she says to fuck what others think. Can you say that? To not listen to people who say I can’t and just do.”</p><p>Saerom grins. She had a pair of Jessica Jung sunglasses at home. Maybe she’d buy another pair, just for that quote alone. “Your sister uses your last name and you don’t. I know a lot of it is brand but is some of it making a name of yourself outside of your sister’s reputation?”</p><p>“Yeah, maybe. I didn’t put a lot of thought into it, actually. But that doesn’t mean subconsciously I didn’t do exactly that.” Krystal pauses and looks at Saerom, narrowing her eyes. Saerom feels as though she’s being questioned herself, except she doesn’t know the questions or the answers she’s giving to them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. sua/jisun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Because i’m literally insane, I picked out a specific day for this to take place--181018, because that’s the one time Gyuri hosted MCountdown, and that’s the catalyst for this whole thing...but after that, literally nothing fit. Fromis were promoting at the time, and Eunseo wasn’t present for that MCountdown, so I proceeded to ignore reality. But isn’t that was fics are about anyway? Ignoring reality? So like, fuck it. This is just pre-Love Bomb, and mid-What, cameo by Save Me Save You goodbye stage, and Gyuri is a fixed MC.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jisun is curled up on the couch at the dorm, just dozing off, when her phone pings with a text from Gyuri:</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>I forgot my concealer. Could you drop it off?</p>
</blockquote><p>Jisun sighs, kicking off her fuzzy blanket and getting up from the couch, cracking her shoulder as she does so. They’d all been working extra hard during practice for their next comeback, so Jisun isn’t surprised that, in her tired state, Gyuri had forgotten something for her MC gig. Gyuri was like that--she got scatterbrained when she was tired.</p><p>She shoots a quick text back:</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>I’m taking bus, eta 20 minutes?</p>
</blockquote><p>and quickly gets pinged back:</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>That’s fine. Thanks so much and sorry!! &gt;.&lt;</p>
</blockquote><p>She sends back a “✌️” to acknowledge reciept and goes to their shared room to grab Gyuri’s makeup bag and make herself presentable.</p><p>The bus ride over is quick and painless. One of the joys of being a b-tier rookie was that, while fromis were fairly recognizable in the context of their idol promotions, people would only vaguely recognize them in public, and never enough to approach. She does get a few looks from a few middle schoolers on the bus, and one might even take a picture, but they get off at the next stop and she gets off the stop after with no one else sparing a glance. Being a rookie was awkward in other contexts. She has to show the venue staff her OTR pass to be let through, not yet recognizable enough to travel the halls freely without idol getup on. The staff member blushes and stammers an apology and she smiles back awkwardly, waving it off, asking directions to the MC waiting area.</p><p>The staff member sort of waves in the direction of a halfway and then makes several gestures that indicate the directions she has to go, but the whole thing is unclear, and Jisun doesn’t want to bother them by asking again, so she nods and tries her best to follow their instructions.</p><p>Jisun has never been the most directionally competent, usually relying on Jiheon or Nagyung to lead her through the labyrinth of corridors when they go to get snacks, and the MNet building was especially bad. One white hallway would split off into two identical ones, and only half of the doors were labelled. There are only a few people wandering around the hallways like her, which is good, because she's embarrassed by just how lost she is, and bad, because she has no one to ask for help.</p><p>After the fifth turn into an identical, unmarked hallway, she sees a sign with a half worn away whiteboard label “_C”. Sighing with relief at finally finding the right room, she swings open the door just to freeze.</p><p>The room is a lot bigger--and messier--than the MC room was, and the stacks of albums are a deep pink color. Definitely not fromis’. But that’s not what makes her freeze in place.</p><p>On the couch on the far side of the room, two girls--two seniors, spring apart, their smeared lipstick making it obvious what they had been doing, even as they settle themselves side by side on the couch. Eunseo does up the buttons on her sheer blouse while Sua straightens out her bangs. Eunseo avoids looking at Jisun as if her life depends on it, as if not acknowledging her means none of this is happening. Jisun can’t blame her.</p><p>When Jisun looks at Sua, however, she meets wide eyes, which quickly narrow. Jisun sees Sua start to speak, but her legs decide it’s time to go and before she can process any of what she just saw, she has rounded two corners and bumped into Gyuri.</p><p>“Hey! Just in time!” Gyuri steadies her shoulders and looks at her scattered appearance, trailing off. “Are you...good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”</p><p>Jisun just nods, handing the makeup bag to Gyuri, muttering something about a late bus.</p><hr/><p>Jisun waits for Gyuri in the actual waiting room, which is terribly labelled in 12 point type on printer paper just kind of slapped onto the door. She feels a little less stupid when Gyuri tells her that the manager also had trouble finding the room.</p><p>Jisun is left alone in the waiting room watching Gyuri on the screen in the corner. It’s this alone time that allows her to return to what she walked in on.</p><p>Obviously, Jisun knows there are secret relationships. The ISACs the month prior had been nothing but stolen moments and brushes of hands. Saerom was especially good at picking them out, whispering to the group any time she spotted something suspicious. But most of those had been straight.</p><p>Obviously, queer idols exist, Jisun herself being proof. But Jisun had never seen another. Not so explicitly. There were whispers, of course. Eunseo had always been talked about, as were seniors, people too well-established, and from companies too wealthy to care as much about tabloids, and among the boys, there were rumors as well. But Jisun didn't know.</p><p>A knock on the door startles her out of her thoughts and, thinking it’s probably Gyuri or, oh God, perhaps Eunseo’s teammate, Bona. She isn’t prepared for Sua to stick her head in.</p><p>Sua, for her part, looks just as uncomfortable as Jisun feels, inching her way into the room and easing the door shut behind her, looking everywhere but at Jisun as she speaks. “Hey, I just wanted to check in with you really quick about what you just saw-”</p><p>Jisun doesn’t need to know, not with Sua looking like that. She’s never been a fan of prolonging others’ pain. Not since the ranking countdowns on Idol School. “Don't worry, I'll keep my mouth shut.”</p><p>Sua smiles weakly, and it’s so unlike the boisterous persona she has onstage that Jisun can’t help but really <em>study</em> her. “I just want to explain myself.”</p><p>Jisun’s laughs, half forced and half uncomfortable, though Jisun herself isn’t even sure exactly which part is which. She likes holding her cards close to her chest. And she doesn’t need to see anyone else’s hand either. “You don't need to. Its really okay. You only get to see your girlfriend so often-”</p><p>Sua is the opposite, it seems, as a laugh erupts from her, startling them both. “She's not my-it’s just. Sometimes it gets lonely and I get restless and-” Sua shrugs, and the light dusting of red on her cheeks as she finishes her sentence, “-horny,” is cute.</p><p>Jisun blushes at Sua’s bluntness, and maybe also at her own admission to herself. “You really don't need to explain.”</p><p>Sua laughs, a little too loudly for the otherwise empty room, and Jisun has to admit the way Sua jumps a little at her own volume is charming. “But don't I? I mean, you saw me with a girl, that’s weird! I’m-”</p><p>Jisun smiles wryly. This whole thing was a surreal flavor of awkward, and she can’t decide whether she wants Sua to shut up and leave or stay a little longer. “No, I get it. I, well, I <em>understand. </em>Me too.”</p><p>Sua babbles on, “I know you’re probably aware that some idols are g-huh? You-oh.” She stops and Jisun watches something in her relax.</p><p>“Yeah, oh.” Jisun presses back a grin. For how mesmerizingly smoothly Sua moved onstage, she was bumbling through this conversation. “I get it.” She laughs, trying to break the tension. “Well, I’m going crazy from boredom right now. Are you done with your performance?”</p><p>Sua smiles back, her face still a little red from the previous panic. “Yeah, I’m just waiting for the closing stage.”</p><p>“Do you-” Jisun feels a little presumptuous asking, realizing suddenly that she’s handing the decision-making over to Sua, but, well, “Are you-Do you want to hang here, or-”</p><p>Sua laughs at Jisun’s rapidly reddening face, and, capitalizing on Jisun’s flustered state, hops onto the arm of the chair Jisun is sitting in. “Oh, you’re cute, aren’t you?”</p><hr/><p>Bora’s phone pings with a message and, after a quick glance at the screen, she stands and turns to the door.</p><p>“Thanks for showing a girl a good time.” She winks, and Jisun rolls her eyes at the double entendre. Bora pulls her phone out of her waistband and offers it to Jisun. “If you ever need a senior, you know.”</p><p>Jisun reaches out and takes it, entering her number, and “fromis” under the company field just in case.</p><p>Just as she hands the phone back, the door flies open and Gyuri starts talking, “Jisun, you wouldn’t believe the sodas in the third flo-,” cutting herself off and bowing when she sees Sua. “Hi, Sua sunbaenim!”</p><p>Bora straightens up and Jisun watches in fascination as she puts forth her professional self once again, bowing back and shaking her hand, laughing and asking Gyuri how being an MC is. Jisun had never figured out the difference between her public and private self the way Saerom or Nagyung had, but Bora was clearly a master.</p><p>It’s whiles she’s lost in her thoughts that Bora excuses herself and Jisun, still processing everything, says goodbye without thinking.</p><hr/><p>Everything is a blur until she finds herself in the car, Gyuri talking all about how pretty Bona and Doyeon were. “-And Bona said she wants to act beside me someday! I’m so flattered.”</p><p>Jisun smiles back, basking in Gyuri’s happiness until her phone pings with a text reading:</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Hey Jisun, are you free for coffee tomorrow? Senior’s treat! 😜</p>
</blockquote>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And then it continues with jisun spinning more and more suspicious reasons to visit Gyuri, but actually to visit sua, and they make out in the MC room or the bathroom while Gyuri is off mcing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. tiffany/minji</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“How...are you finding everything today?” Minji stares at the woman in the slinky green dress. She sticks out with the way her dress dips daringly low and Minji can’t help the way her eyes dip down for a second before she remembers that she might have caught the woman slipping a bracelet into her bag. She steps forward and schools her face into a stern expression.</span>
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  <span>The woman looks up at her with wide eyes, an open expression painted onto her features. “I’m just,” she smiles and her eyes turn to crescents, and honestly, she’s the sort of woman Minji might just buy a drink for at a bar, but that's beside the point, “admiring the goods!” The woman gestures at the bracelets, but the way her eyes rake over Minji’s work uniform tells a different story.</span>
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  <span>“Of course.” Minji is nothing if not polite on the job, unlike Yoobin, who shared her Friday shift and would get into it with the men buying gaudy engagement rings for their fiancés. Still, polite but stern is her thing. “I do need to check your bag. I hope you don't mind. It's company policy.”</span>
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  <span>The woman narrows her eyes, studying Minji. “I didn't take anything.” </span>
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  <span>Minji knows this part: her next step could send this situation to the front page of reddit if she's not careful. Minji isn't afraid of manhandling a girl, but fighting this woman over a $2000 piece of jewelry is not how she wants to start her week. “Please, miss.” She had learned quickly that miss goes down better than ma'am. “It will just take a second. This is my job.”</span>
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  <span>The woman sighs, taking the bag -- a Birkin, Minji realizes with a shock. Well, she might have just fucked up a big commission -- off her shoulder. She takes two quick, purposeful steps over to Minji, and then rests her hand on Minji’s arm. It's disconcertingly intimate for her workplace, and Minji is about to drop her arm, but the woman whispers. “I would prefer to do this to the side, then. Please make it quick.”</span>
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  <span>Minji nods and leads her to the back corner of the store. She might have missed the tinge of flush on the woman's ears had she not snuck another peek at her. It wasn't often that beautiful women shopped here alone. Minji curiously eyes the woman and before ripping her eyes away once they reach the back corner. She does her best to pretend she hadn't been looking in the fist place, but judging by the eyes on her now, and the woman's knowing smirk, she's failed.</span>
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  <span>The woman unlatches her birkin and from the way she carries it, Minji knows it's the real thing. Her breath catches in her throat. She's never seen one up close before. “Take a look.”</span>
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  <span>Minji almost misses what the woman says. The contents of the bag has her mind grinding to a halt. Of all of the things she thought she'd find contained in the most expensive bag she'd even seen, a small collection of wicked looking sex toys was not it.</span>
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  <span>This is the part where Minji would do a cursory flip through the items to check for any hidden goods, but these toys...well, Minji is no longer sure what the etiquette is. She half reaches for it before blushing and clearing her throat.</span>
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  <span>The woman, whose ears are red, laughs lightly, half in embarrassment, half in amusement and Minji’s shock. “Do you want me to dig through? I promise that the only hidden things are maybe nipple clamps and potentially the pocket vibe.” </span>
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  <span>Minji is glad the woman's husky voice does not carry over the classical music management plays mid-afternoon. She nods. “If you would, please.”</span>
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  <span>The woman deftly spreads the unzippered side pocket with two fingers and Minji chokes back a cough at the image her brain decides to feed her. The woman looks up at her, brows furrowed before spotting the red tips of her ears. To Minji's horror, realization dawns on the woman's face.</span>
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  <span>Minji stammers out an, “The zippered pocket, please.” and the woman complies, opening it to reveal a wallet and small collection of identical business cards, where Minji's spots a name. Mistress Tiffany. Minji supposes that clears up the sex toys.</span>
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  <span>The woman finishes by pushing aside the toys in the main compartment to reveal no bracelet. Minji flushes with guilt.</span>
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  <span>“I am so sorry, miss. I must have been seeing things. Let me give you a 20% discount on your purchase for your trouble.” She bows deeply in apology.</span>
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  <span>The woman -- Tiffany? -- laughs. “That's too steep. How about ten percent off? You're too cute, baby.” </span>
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  <span>Minji opens her mouth to respond, only for the woman to brush her hand over Minji’s arm.</span>
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  <span>“Or, and tell me if I’m misreading this, we forget this situation and you come out with me for a drink.” </span>
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  <span>The woman's voice is silky and Minji finds herself nodding.</span>
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  <span>The woman grins, eyes crinkling and revealing the beginning of smile lines that have Minji all the more obsessed.</span>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>follow me on <a href="https://twitter.com/eeIegy">twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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